


It's best if we both stay

by alterocentrist



Series: We found love right where we are [3]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2504468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alterocentrist/pseuds/alterocentrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Carmilla has difficulty understanding why Laura loves Taylor Swift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's best if we both stay

There were plenty of things about Laura that Carmilla liked.

She liked the way her hair smelled. And her surprisingly strong arms. (Laura could seriously incapacitate an average human being if she really wanted to.) The way she chewed on the end of her pens when she found a bit of coursework tedious or difficult. Her comprehensive knowledge of _Buffy_ , _Veronica Mars_ , and _Pretty Little Liars_. (“I’m all for media about women and agency!” she would say.) Her collection of button-up shirts, in various patterns and fabric weights, and the fact that she spends her Sunday afternoons meticulously ironing them.

There were plenty of things about Laura that Carmilla understood.

Laura would spend a whole day researching, half a day writing up a very detailed outline on the legal pad, and two days writing a term paper. She hated most vegetables. (Because who didn’t?) She never washed her hair in the mornings, only at night, and she would towel dry it while talking to Carmilla, who would be inadvertently sprayed with the residual water. Laura made pros and cons lists for everything. She also had something called a “tumbler”, except she used it from her laptop, and Carmilla swore she saw lesbian pornography on it one night.

But there was one thing about Laura that Carmilla had difficulty getting her head around.

Laura _loved_ Taylor Swift.

* * *

It was only eleven at night when Carmilla returned from her hunt. This was early for her; she preferred to be out hunting all night, to get better quality blood, but it began to rain - and she hadn’t dressed for that - so she couldn’t be picky. She quickly killed and drained a moose, then ran back to the dorm room before the weather turned for the worse.

Laura was still working at her desk. She seemed to be pretending to ignore Carmilla’s arrival. On a whim, Carmilla decided to make a bit of a commotion while she transferred the surplus of moose blood she collected into her soy milk container, then replacing it and grabbing a can of Laura’s grape soda.

At the fizz of the carbonated drink being opened, Laura whirled around in her seat. “Do you _mind_?” she asked.

Carmilla’s lips twitched around the rim of the can. “Not at all, buttercup.”

And not for the first, fifth, or fiftieth time in less than a week of rooming together, Laura threw her hands up exasperatedly and exclaimed: “You are the _worst_ roommate ever!” Frustrated at Carmilla’s indifference, she gave up and swivelled her chair back to face her desk.

A yellow object taped to the wall above the sink caught Carmilla’s eye. It was a chore wheel. She sighed. Mother assigned her to room with this girl not because she was a target, but because she was getting too big for her own boots. But there was no warning that Laura Hollis somehow achieved obnoxiousness in all aspects of life. She probably wouldn’t even be pleasant to eat. She got a paper cut once and Carmilla noticed that the stench of processed sugar permeated her blood. “Wow, cutie, this is so 70s,” she taunted, tracing the stiff paper with a fingernail.

Laura looked over her shoulder. “We’ll be living together until the summer, Carmilla,” she said. “It would be nice if you pulled your weight and actually cleaned up some of your own mess on a regular basis.”

“I live in _this_ half of the room.” Carmilla indicated the side with her bed on it. “You live on _that_ side.” She pointed at Laura’s bed. “You can keep your side clean, you know, and let me take care of my own business.”

“Says the one who keeps taking my pillow and hooking up with her 'study buddies' on _my_ bed!”

“You are so funny, buttercup,” Carmilla said, in a way that signalled the end of discussion. She sat on her bed and sipped the grape soda as she observed her roommate’s shoulders tensing, her breathing going shallower.

“Ugh!” The sound came as sharply expelled air from Laura’s mouth. “It’s too late at night to be having an argument with you anyway.” She growled, a sound that tickled Carmilla’s belly. She opened a new window on her computer, and with a few clicks, the intro of some country pop song played through the speakers.

That was odd; technically, it was lights out. Their floor don always reminded them that if they were going to play music after nine-thirty, they should do so using earphones. Carmilla knew that Laura pedantically abided by the rules. She even owned a pair of noise-cancelling headphones - so where were they?

“ _And all you’re ever gonna be is_ mean,” Laura joined along on the chorus, shooting a glare Carmilla’s way.

Carmilla couldn’t believe it. Laura was breaking the rules to be even more passive-aggressive. She got up and placed the half-empty grape soda can on Laura’s desk. Goosebumps erupted on the girl’s left arm as she partially hovered over her. “Wow, cutie. That’s real harsh.” Smirking, she dramatically placed a hand on her heart. “You hurt my feelings.”

* * *

The unusually tall redhead who happened to be her roommate’s TA brushed past Carmilla on the stairs to her residence hall floor. Carmilla approached her dorm room slowly, her ears trying to pick up on the sounds inside. If Big Red had just left, then Laura would either be squealing, or…

Carmilla turned the doorknob and walked in. Laura was, as usual, on her computer. The headphones looked unnaturally large clamped over her head. Carmilla focused to hear what was playing through them.

 _Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone_   
_I’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run_   
_You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess_   
_It’s a love story, baby, just say, “Yes”_

Yes, Laura had two coping mechanisms after a visit from her TA: squealing, and, to Carmilla’s disdain, listening to sappy pop songs. Suddenly - and inexplicably - irritated, she dropped her backpack on the floor between their beds.

The books inside thudded with the floor, catching Laura’s attention immediately. She whipped her headphones off. “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded. “Someone pee in your soy milk?”

“If anyone did, then it could only be you,” Carmilla said. She sat down on her bed, still aware of the song playing through Laura’s headphones. “You do know that Romeo and Juliet die, right?”

Laura looked at her headphones as if they had betrayed her, before pausing the music on her computer. She faced Carmilla again. “Yes, I do know that,” she said. “But I’m a sucker for happy endings. Sue me.”

“Tell me something, creampuff.” Carmilla crossed her legs. “I thought you were a feminist and all. Yet you still listen to this music knowing that it portrays traditional elements of femininity, not to mention emphasising heteronormativity.”

“Okay, which women’s studies major did you trick into being your ‘study buddy’?” Laura inhaled deeply, which indicated to Carmilla that she was about to launch into a speech - and she did. “Don’t make fun of me for wanting to enjoy Taylor Swift’s music. I have the right to want whatever I want, and I want to have a happy ending. And if this song makes me hope for that, then fine, I don’t care if it’s about straight people. It’s about the way it makes me feel.”

Carmilla did not reply. She just stared at the tiny girl with the golden brown hair. Smart and hardworking, yet prone to procrastination. Always nagging Carmilla about health and hygiene, yet known to skip a meal or a shower now and then. Determinedly righteous about justice, yet never feels wrong about enjoying things that can be argued as reinforcing it. A collision of contradictions. But Carmilla had never met anyone so unapologetically transparent about it. Too often people try too hard to hide what made them complex. Laura did not.

Without knowing why, she chose to ignore the fact that Laura was playing this saccharine song because of Big Red.

* * *

Laura murmured unintelligibly as she adjusted the ropes which bound Carmilla to her computer chair. She had been tied up for five days without any blood to drink, and the ropes were cutting into her flesh. Dead flesh, for sure, but it chafed anyway.

“What’s your favourite blood type?” Laura was now standing over her. Despite her staunch posture, Carmilla could hear the tremble in her voice, and feel the slight anxious tremor radiating from her body. “Just tell me what happened to Betty and the other girls, and I’ll get you your favourite blood type.”

Carmilla wanted to tell her that she didn’t know what different blood types tasted like. She differentiated blood by species, or by emotion. And that in that moment, she was craving the sweet, refreshing blood of a consenting human. She was only able to enjoy that delicacy once or twice in her centuries. Consenting humans were so few and far between, that she knew it was highly unlikely for her to come across one again. In fact, the likelihood of being able to taste blood again seemed to decrease the longer she stayed in this chair.

But she kept her mouth shut. Because the only thing worse than being mistaken for a manipulative, bloodthirsty kidnapper was to admit to Laura that she was just a pawn in the big game - and recently, a disobedient one at that. She would rather starve than swallow her pride.

“Ugh! This is not working!” Laura groaned. “Do I have to get Danny in here with her stake?”

Carmilla merely rolled her eyes. It was only five days in. Her strength was waning, but she could still take Big Red on, restrained or not. She could even attack Laura and feed on her, if she genuinely wanted to. All she needed was the right opportunity. And a good reason. Neither of which she had.

“Dammit. You _stupid_ vampire.” Laura reached for her iPod on her desk before collapsing on her bed with a defeated sigh.

A few moments later, Carmilla listened to the strains of a song playing through the other girl’s headphones. She followed the music’s crescendo and crash, and then…

_I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now_

Does this girl have a Taylor Swift song for _every_ situation?

* * *

_Cerebrospinal fluid_. _Parasites_. LaFontaine’s words echoed through Carmilla’s head, accompanied with images. Of Ell. Of Ell’s repulsion when she was told that Carmilla was a vampire. Of the fear in Ell’s eyes when Mother dragged her away, as the powerful vampire’s lackeys grabbed Carmilla, to take her to the coffin that would be her prison for seemingly countless decades. These images never left her mind; they haunted her when she dared to sleep. And now that she had some idea of what Mother could have done to Ell? Carmilla did not feel like sleeping for a good while.

She did not go back to the dorm room that night. She stayed in the shade of the woods until it was dark enough to walk outside without her skin singeing, then went to the small township outside the university’s gates. She stole a slice of pie from a cafe, then headed to the nearby tavern to check if they stocked any absinthe. They did. She swiped the bottle and a shot glass, surreptitiously downed a couple of shots without bothering to dilute it. To shake off the sudden fog in her head, she scanned the early patrons and daylong drunks sitting by the bar. She hadn’t fed from a human - besides that nip from Laura - since escaping from her coffin. Perhaps tonight was a good night to start again.

But Carmilla couldn’t bring herself to do that. She could have grabbed an unsuspecting drunk without Laura ever finding out, but she no longer wanted to lie to her roommate. Especially when she appeared so dedicated to believing that she was not the monster she initially thought Carmilla was.

Cursing herself for caring so much about what some _mortal_ thought of her, Carmilla replaced the bottle of absinthe and made her way out of the tavern. She only just noticed that the temperature had considerably dropped since she left the Silas grounds. For a second, she was tempted to go back and stay in bed for the rest of the evening, which was what a typical 18-year-old would do, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Laura getting all _concerned_ over her.

She stayed in the forest that night. She fed on a couple of squirrels to prevent herself from vomiting due to the unsettled absinthe. And she drained a rat, for warmth. Vampires may be invincible to the worst of climates, but they sure weren’t impervious. She found herself a relatively cosy space halfway up a large tree, and reluctantly submitted to a fitful sleep.

The sun’s rays searing the skin on her legs woke her that morning. She jumped down from the tree and ran to back to the dorm room as fast as she could. She opened the door quietly, assuming that Laura was still sleeping, but Laura was sitting up in bed when Carmilla came in. She was reading a book, which she lowered when the vampire walked over to stand in front of her.

“Where were you all night?” Laura asked.

“Did you get any sleep?” Carmilla asked, at the same time.

“I woke up before sunrise to see if you were back, like you usually are,” Laura said. “I didn’t get any sleep then so I thought I’d just catch up on my class reading. Where did you go?”

“You never seemed to care before,” Carmilla said.

“Of course I care!” Laura said. “But you know, I didn’t wanna kill your air of mystery or whatever.”

Carmilla glanced at the floor, considering Laura’s words, then looked up again. “What are you reading?”

“ _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. It’s for lit class.”

“Ah,” Carmilla said. “‘Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives,’” she quoted. _Dorian Gray_ was published when she was trapped in the coffin, but that didn’t mean she didn’t get her hands on it sometime during her newfound freedom. Immortality and homoerotic subtext? That was her thing. She smirked as Laura stared at her in disbelief. “What? Food for thought for Big Red?”

“Don’t talk about Danny right now,” Laura’s voice was uncharacteristically low and grumpy at the mention of the tall redhead.

“‘When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance,’” Carmilla swilled the words in her mouth like fine wine. She did not take her eyes off Laura, who grew increasingly fidgety as she listened.

An unfamiliar hardness was evident behind the other girl’s eyes as she recited, “‘You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.’”

For the second time that morning, Carmilla found her gaze on the floor. She took off her boots. “I have class at 12 that I actually want to pass, and I didn’t get a good night’s sleep,” she said. She slipped under her duvet and turned to face the wall, still conscious of Laura watching her. Then she heard the sound of plastic brushing over hair, and then music. A haunting, resonant beat. She knew right away that it wasn’t - thankfully - Leonard Cohen. She lay there and listened.

 _Remember when we couldn’t take the heat_   
_I walked out, I said, “I’m setting you free”_   
_But the monsters turned out to be just trees_   
_When the sun came up_   
_You were looking at me_

Carmilla felt a weight on her chest. She gathered the duvet closer around her and tried to close her eyes. “‘I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions,’” she whispered to herself, “‘I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.’”

Oscar Wilde was wrong. She had learned that being in love should leave you with no choice but to be honest. So for her, this was the truth: She was the creature of the night. She was the monster. She never deserved to find her light.

* * *

Laura was the light.

It had been two weeks since they defeated Mother. They lay in bed after a long day of classes. Laura was snuggled up to Carmilla’s side, and she was lightly tracing patterns on Carmilla’s collarbone. Her iPod was plugged into her speakers, and for the better part of an hour, some of her preferred folk-rock music set the soundtrack for the afternoon.

“Mmm, I need to go get dinner, cupcake,” Carmilla said. She made an effort to shimmy out of Laura’s bed but the smaller girl only pulled her closer.

“But I haven’t seen you since this morning,” Laura said.

“Well, I need a top up, so unless you’re willing to offer…”

Laura shook her head vehemently. “Can we cross that bridge when we come to it, please?”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Carmilla said. She stroked Laura’s hair, then gave her a tender kiss. “This is nice. Lounging around, no pressing coursework to attend to, being up to date on readings for once, no redheads bursting in at inappropriate moments...”

“Oh, don’t hold your breath,” Laura said, chuckling.

The next song started with a mellower acoustic guitar intro that Carmilla found herself enjoying. She could imagine encouraging Laura to stand up so they could sway in time to it, in each other’s arms. If only she wasn’t feeling so comfortable in bed. And then the singing started.

“What the…” she sat up. “Is this Taylor Swift?”

Laura tried to pull her back down. “C’mon, Carm, she has some really cool songs!” She tugged on Carmilla again. “I especially like this one.”

“Why?”

“Cuddle with me and you’ll see.”

Carmilla obliged. Laura, after all, was hard to resist. She lowered herself back on the bed and resumed their previous position. They lay there in silence, Laura contentedly nuzzling Carmilla’s neck now and then.

 _‘Cause all I know is we said, “Hello”_   
_And your eyes look like coming home_   
_All I know is a simple name_   
_Everything has changed_

Laura planted a kiss right on Carmilla’s jawline.

Carmilla found herself responding by turning her face slightly and smiling against Laura’s forehead. She understood. But just this once.

* * *

Famous last words.

Carmilla had been unable to get that song out of her head. So when Laura was in the shower the next morning, Carmilla took Laura’s iPod from her desk and tucked it under her own pillow. She fixed Laura some coffee in her travel mug.

Laura emerged from the bathroom, got dressed, checked over the contents of her backpack, and took the travel mug from Carmilla before giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, babe,” she said. “I’ll see you later.” She eyed her unmade bed. “You can sleep there if you want. But don’t forget to go to class!”

“I won’t,” Carmilla said. She wasn’t planning on going back to sleep anyway.

“All right.” Another peck. “See you.”

The vampire watched Laura leave the room, then eagerly reached under her pillow for the iPod. But then the door creaked open again, causing her to turn around warily.

“Hey, have you seen my iPod anywhere?” Laura asked. “It’s not in my jacket pocket.”

“No. Sorry, cupcake,” Carmilla lied.

“Ah, well. I’m running late. I’ll look for it later. Bye!”

When she was sure that Laura was gone, Carmilla took the iPod out and familiarised herself with it. She got to Laura’s collection of Taylor Swift songs - it looked like her entire discography - and was about to play “Everything Has Changed” when she realised that she didn’t have earphones or headphones to use.

She spotted Laura’s headphones hanging on the neck of her reading lamp. Without a second thought, she grabbed them, thinking that Laura wouldn’t mind, as long as she had replaced them later. She plugged in the headphones, clamped them over her head, and then pressed play.

What Carmilla did not expect was to get lost in a vortex of Taylor Swift.

She brought the iPod and the headphones to class with her. She didn’t care that the enormous things hung around her neck during classes, only to be placed over her ears again as she walked out of lecture halls. Taylor Swift reminded her of Laura in a lot of ways. They were both small town girls. They were both natural storytellers. They both started out as naive, and obnoxious, but grew into themselves, and tackled issues and emotions everyone else probably thought was out of their reach.

And both of them got under Carmilla’s skin in ways she never would usually permit.

There was a song that she found herself playing again as she walked across campus to her dorm room. People would call it cheesy, but even vampires had their indulgences.

 _I remember how we felt sitting by the water_   
_and every time I look at you it’s like the first time_   
_I fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter_   
_She is the best thing that’s ever been mine_

The dreamy smile had not disappeared from Carmilla’s face when she entered the room. That was until she heard Laura’s annoyed tone: “So that’s where my iPod has been the whole day! I asked you this morning and you were like, ‘No, cutie, sorry,’ but you actually had it this whole time!”

Carmilla turned the iPod off, removed the headphones from her ears and handed the objects back to her scowling girlfriend, who was sitting in bed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wanted to borrow it but I felt a bit shy. You know how I am with twenty-first century technology. I figured it out, though.”

“Oh.” Laura’s expression softened. “You could have just said so, babe.”

Carmilla simply shrugged.

Laura looked at the iPod. “I wonder what you were listening to,” she said, flicking off the HOLD button to turn the device on. “I don’t recall having any death metal in he- _hey_!”

Carmilla had snatched the iPod from Laura’s unsuspecting hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, cupcake.” She tried to stay cool, but the slight cracking of her voice told Laura all she needed to know.

“Carm. Please.” Laura took the iPod from her carefully. “I’m curious.” But she didn’t do anything until she received confirmation from the vampire.

“All right, but promise not to laugh,” Carmilla said.

Laura cocked her head inquiringly. “Why would I be laughing?” The device’s screen lit up, displaying the song that Carmilla had last listened to. Laura stared at it for a moment, as if she thought it was a hoax, then looked at Carmilla. “Aww!” she squealed. “Carmilla!”

“I said no laughing!”

“I’m not laughing,” Laura said. She grasped Carmilla’s hand lightly. “I think it’s cute.” She turned her attention back to the iPod. “So, you’ve been listening to Taylor the whole day?”

“How do you- ?” The question was lost mid-sentence when Carmilla realised that the iPod probably kept a history of the songs that have been played. She retracted her hand from Laura to fold her arms. “I _hate_ this generation’s technology.”

Laura was still gazing at her with an amused look. She patted the space next to her on the bed. “Let’s get comfy,” she said.

“What are we doing?”

“Carm.”

Carmilla obliged.

Laura scooted over a bit, and then attached her iPod to the speakers by her lamp. Her eyebrows narrowed in concentration as she searched for the song. “Here we go,” she said. She settled on the bed and wrapped an arm around Carmilla’s shoulders, letting the vampire curl up to her side.

The introduction was cheerful and catchy. Carmilla enjoyed the rise and fall of Laura’s chest against her cheek as they listened quietly.

Somewhere between the chorus and the subsequent verse, Laura smiled down at her. “You can be such a sap sometimes, you know?”

“Shut up, buttercup. You’re destroying my reputation,” Carmilla said half-heartedly. The centuries may have made her hard, but she was a romantic to the core. It was the one thing from her mortal life that she carried over into her birth as a vampire. She wouldn’t trade that for anything. But that didn't mean she liked showing it.

 _It’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong, and_   
_your hands are tough but they are where mine belong in_   
_I’ll fight their doubt and give you faith_   
_With this song for you_

She nuzzled deeper into Laura’s neck, and held her a little tighter. She could almost hear Laura’s smile widening as she did so. Perhaps Carmilla would let herself be romantic this time. For Laura, her light.

_But they can’t take what’s ours, they can’t take what’s ours_

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most fun I've had writing a fic. I thought it was going to be very fluffy but I managed to get some angst in there as well - I just couldn't resist! I got the idea of this fic from the girlfriend, who is a total Laura and converted me into becoming a Taylor Swift fan. I was partly inspired by the text posts imagining Carmilla as a Taylor Swift fan, and Laura/Carmilla GIFsets inspired by Taylor Swift's songs. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The songs mentioned, in order, are: "Mean", "Love Story", "I Knew You Were Trouble", "Out of the Woods", "Everything Has Changed", "Mine" and "Ours". The title is taken from "Stay Stay Stay".
> 
> P.S.: I like to drop hints about other fics I'm planning to write in the near future in my stories, and this one particularly is chock full of these clues.


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